#Chapter1 of a story that I’ll never publish …

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He sat raised on his platform of silken throws and cushions. A melody wafted through the room chimed by the ankle chains of someone dancing. He knew nothing less than privileges since his birth and for all his life he had tasted nothing but power. He was the Sultan of his time, the King, young and handsome with dark hair and deep set hazel eyes which were soft yet stern at the same time. Men wished that they could be him, women wished he would make them his… Power ran like electric currents around his finger tips and by the mere gesture of a wave of his hand, he controlled destiny, he controlled lives …

The dancing girl before him suddenly bored him although she had once before allured him. And just like that, with a flick of his wrist and the wave of his hand, silence overshadowed the  crowded room as it sat like a dense cloud choking everyone, their breaths constricted in wait of his command.
Would he send the order for her to go to his palace? Or worse, would he order her to be placed in captivity with a looming fate that could imprison her for life …
Eyes widened and the dancing girl fell to her knees saddened and embarrassed that she could not entertain him, that she could not please him. Her fate lie in his hands and she dared not look directly at him. Luck was on her side tonight as he dismissed her and nodded at the guard to remove her from the palace and set her free.

“Bring her” … He says with a tired and pained expression. He speaks with an air of maturity and sophistication beyond his 35 years. Having sat on His fathers throne for over 20 years has caused him much air and arrogance and indeed much power too, in fact he had too much power befitting a King of his age…
But was it fueled out of respect or was it out of fear? He never could tell.

A servant brings him a tray of exotic and exquisite sweets of which he probes and prods some eventually declining them all with a heavy sigh…
He had everything that he could possibly want or desire at his finger tips, yet he desired none of it, he didn’t know what true pleasure and satisfaction felt like. Not until that night …

All eyes are settled on him, on his every gesture, on his tapping fingers, on his frowning forehead, on the long dark lashes of his blinking eyes, on his sculptured cheeks, even on his chest as it heaved slowly and almost invisibly with each breath that he drew in. Something creaks and cuts through the heavy silence. The huge door to the entrance opens as the guards brings forth the Sultans request…

Veiled in emerald green she pulls and tugs her arms to break free from their grip. Her feet sing and chime as she is forced and pulled towards him. He sits up as if in attendance for just the mere sight of her, her unseen face, the green of her garment, her singing feet, her gestures to break free, her curves, they all allure him and he is drawn to assess her curiously. Never before has such a sight been displayed before him. No woman has ever resisted nor disobeyed the command to dance, to sing or to spend the night with him. He was bewitched! Captivated! Her sweet scent wafted through the air and crept in through his nostrils alluring him even more. He needed to see her face. The guards drop her to his feet and she looks down, still veiled, still covered and undiscovered. Slowly he reaches his hand to her shimmering green veil to pull it from her face and she pleads with the sweetness of a symphony as she says, ” please don’t”.
No person, no woman has defied him before. He would be filled with rage had any person spoken up to him! And yet he was not filled with anything like that,he was filled with nothing but curiosity. Her aura infiltrates through him like the currents of the sea washing over his beached body, he has no power, no control over the moment, for the first time he is challenged by an unknown entity. His hand pulls back slightly and stays halted in mid-air. Who is this! He wonders… How could she defy him in speech, in action and yet captivate him so intensely without him even having seen her face. And yet just the mere contours of her nose, her cheek hidden behind the fabric of a deep green exposing only her chocolate eyes, her painted hands and feet had his heart pulsating vigorously with an insatiable need to see her, to know her, to discover her like an island ….

But he cannot. He feels paralysed to pull the veil from her face. He feels unable to move and to carry out his order to have her sent to his room. He feels compelled to set her free. And so with a heavy heart he does that. He waves her away with yet another gesture of a hand and he watches her walk away, then he watches her run to the open doors as if she is running to be free from him finally stopping  at the last second before exiting, turning to look back at him one last time. And then she is gone. She disappears into the crack of moonlight emanating from the heavy steel doors. He  watches her leave feeling an ache unfamiliar to him…

A courtier snaps his fingers and another girl is brought forth to entertain His Majesty. The Sultan Rezauddin reclines back into the comfort of the silken cushions watching the beauty before his eyes captivate her audience. But his mind is not even there, he watches the green of her skirt and listens to the songs of her feet as they dance and sing for him in his mind ….

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